


Caribou Can't Solve Everything

by Sproid



Category: due South
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sproid/pseuds/Sproid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray’s in a foul mood, and it’s not just because he’s having a bad week. No, it’s because he’s having a monumentally <i>awful</i> week, and Fraser doesn’t even seem to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caribou Can't Solve Everything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Seascribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/gifts).



> A belated birthday fic for Seascribe, who requested "something with Ray Vecchio in it". Apparently birthday fic means I should make him sad before I cheer him up, I hope you don't mind.

Ray’s in a foul mood, and it’s not just because he’s having a bad week. No, it’s because he’s having a monumentally _awful_ week, and Fraser doesn’t even seem to notice.

Things started going downhill on Sunday, when Tony took Ma’s car to the store and brought it back with more scratches on it than a lottery ticket. Then just as Ray finished dealing with the insurance forms, some jerk from way up in the food-chain turned up at the station, wanting to look at Ray’s files from a three-year old case. That sure as hell doesn’t spell out anything good, even though Ray knows he played that one by the book. Plus Frannie’s mad at him for something he said without thinking, and won’t even listen to him when he tries to apologise. Yeah, he probably deserves it, but he doesn’t need to feel guilty about upsetting his baby sister on top of everything else.

Some support from Fraser would be nice, he can usually count on that. Fraser though, he just carries on as if nothing is wrong, even though Ray is snapping at everyone who comes his way and gulping down crappy coffee at twice his normal rate. 

For about a day, Ray thinks that Fraser is genuinely oblivious, that his cheery stories and efforts to get Ray to focus on their cases are just him going about business as normal. Fraser’s way more observant than that though, which means he’s doing it on purpose. The only reason he’d be doing that is because either because he doesn’t care, or because he disapproves of the way Ray’s dealing with things. 

On it’s own, that’d be enough of a kick in the teeth. With how things have been going between them over the last few months, almost-definitely headed for something more than friends even if they were getting there at the speed of a slow-moving glacier, it’s getting Ray down almost as much as everything else.

He still invites Fraser back to his for pizza on Friday evening. Sitting by himself with wine and the TV just doesn’t sound all that appealing. Besides, maybe he’s read things wrong, and Fraser just hasn’t wanted to talk about things at work or something.

They stop by at Fraser’s apartment so he can change - jeans and a shirt that fit well enough to brighten Ray’s mood for a moment - and order pizza on the way to Ray’s. It arrives just as Ray finishes changing into slacks and a soft turtleneck that doesn’t stink of his rotten week. Fraser pays, with his own money instead of delving into Ray’s wallet. Ray begins to entertain the hope that things are looking up.

That hope dies pretty quickly. Even before they’ve finished the pizza, Ray starts to regret inviting Fraser around. He just does _not_ stop. Every time that Ray tries to bring up some crappy aspect of the week he’s just had - which is really all he wants, just to get some of it off his chest, maybe get a bit of sympathy as well - Fraser leaps in with a story about how someone he once knew dealt with that situation in this brilliant way, really, Ray you should try it.

Ray grits his teeth for as long as he can, but there’s only so long he can put up with it. Eventually it’s too much. Setting his wine glass down on the table forcefully enough that it spills over the side, he stands up and glares at Fraser, snapping out, “Would you just shut up, Fraser?”

Halfway through a word, Fraser stops, and looks up at Ray with confusion on his face. “Is something wrong, Ray?”

 _Now_ he asks, Ray thinks. 

Throwing his hands up in frustration, he replies, “Yeah, something’s wrong, Fraser. Lots of things are wrong, and you know what’s really pissing me off? That you won’t let me talk about any of them. You just keep coming out with these oh-so-very-not amusing anecdotes about how caribou cope with tensions in the herd, and I’ve gotta tell you, I really don’t care.”

A flash of hurt crosses Fraser’s face. Ray knows he should feel guilty, but he’s angry and selfish enough - and alright, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s hurt as well - to ignore it and carry on.

“Not everyone has your magical ability to pretend like they’re OK, Fraser. We don’t all have your determination to just carry on. You telling me how to deal with things doesn’t actually help. I’ve spent all week trying to sort things out, and things still suck, so what I need right now is not you ignoring me.”

“Ray, I -”

“Sometimes, when we feel down - and by ‘we’, I mean humans with actual feelings - we just want to moan about it. It’s stupid, it doesn’t make things any better, but it’d make me _feel_ better. I know it’s not how Mounties deal with things, you probably think it’s weak and shows a distinct lack of character or whatever, but that’s how it is, OK? Is it too much to ask that my best friend listen to me while I do that?”

There’s silence. Ray stops waving his arms around, breathing heavily as he looks at Fraser. 

Still on the sofa, Fraser looks back at him. That odd look of hurt and bemusement slowly changes to implacability, and Ray groans as everything he just said runs back through his head. Great. Way to go, Vecchio, bitch at Benny just because you’re having a bad week, that’s a perfect plan to keep hold of your friends.

Tiredly, he turns away. “Maybe you should go, Benny,” he tells the wall on the other side of the room.

The rustle tells him that Fraser’s standing up, and Ray stares at the floor as he waits for the sound of the door. Then he feels Fraser’s hand on his shoulder, just lightly, and what the hell? If he was Fraser right now, the only reason he’d want to touch Ray would be to take a swing at him.

“Ray…” Fraser says. Then his hand tightens on Ray’s shoulder, a careful squeeze. Ray can just picture the expression on his face as he tries to figure out how to soothe an irrational Ray Vecchio. “I’m sorry,” Fraser says after a moment.

Ray has to turn around at that, even though it makes Fraser’s hand fall off his shoulder. “You’re sorry?” he says incredulously. “I yelled at you, and _you’re_ sorry?”

“Yes.” Uncomfortable determination replaces caution, and Fraser forges on. “I had no idea you perceived my actions as being cold and uncaring. I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to make you feel as though I was ignoring you.”

There, Fraser trails off. Ray can see his determination waver, and he has to admit, it’s sort of a relief to know he’s not the only one who doesn’t know how to play this one.

“So what?” he asks. “What were you trying to do, Fraser?” Maybe it’s not fair, but he needs to know, because this week has been hell and he’d love to know how Fraser thought he’d been making things better.

“I was trying to cheer you up.” Fraser shrugs, a little uncertain movement as he avoids Ray’s eyes. “I… It’s the only way I know how to deal with feeling… glum. I thought if I could distract you, or offer advice, then maybe you’d feel better. I was mistaken, and it appears I’ve made things worse rather than better, so I’m sorry.”

Now Fraser looks a bit miserable, even though he’s trying to hide it by not looking at Ray. Ray’s guilt hits him full force. “Aw, Fraser,” he says, reaching out to hold Fraser’s arm. Beneath his sleeve, it’s as tense as Ray feels. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” he says ineffectually.

Fraser’s eyes fall to where Ray’s hand is curled around his arm, and then he meets Ray’s gaze again, with a half-smile flickering across his lips. What he has to smile about, Ray doesn’t know, because there’s not a lot about this that’s funny.

Fraser must see the question, because he explains without being prompted. “I was considering the path the evening might take if we both insist on apologising for things we didn’t intend to do.”

Ray snorts, and yeah, the idea of them caught up in a depressing circle of apologies is funny in a weird way, but that’s about his mood right now so it suits him just fine. 

“How about we don’t do that then? We both messed up, we’re sorry, nothing we can do about it except move on.”

“Alright.”

The brief moment of humour fades, and it’s not awkward, but they’re just standing there. Ray is still holding onto Fraser, and it seems like they’re just a bit too close now that the anger has died down. Just as Ray’s about to let go though, and suggest that Fraser goes home now they’re sorted, Fraser says quietly, “Would a hug help?”

Ray blinks at him.

“While you talk about it, I mean,” Fraser clarifies.

“Really?” Ray asks.

Fraser takes the surprise in his tone the wrong way, because his face closes off a bit, and he clears his throat. “Unless you’d rather I go home, of course, which you did indicate I should do, and would be fine. Obviously I haven’t been much use so far, so it’s perfectly understandable if you’d rather be by yourself.”

Ray tightens his grip on Fraser’s arm, and Fraser stops talking. “Yeah, Benny. A hug would be great.”

Relief floods across Fraser’s face, and he breathes out. “Good. I mean, not good that you need a hug, but good that I can -”

“I get it, Benny,” Ray assures him, and turns Benny around to push him back towards the couch.

Of course, when Fraser’s set out on a course of action, he doesn’t do it by halves, even when his eyes are checking in with Ray every other step that he’s doing it right. Before they sit down, he takes Ray’s wine glass, wipes the outside clean, refills it and sets it down within easy reach. Then he insists on plumping up the cushions, and tries to pile them all up around Ray, before Ray takes hold of his sleeve and tells him to just get down here already.

It’s a relief when Fraser doesn’t display any kind of hesitance about sitting right next to Ray, and reaching out to put an arm around his shoulders. With the warm weight there, pulling him carefully closer, Ray feels less stressed already. Leaning forward quickly to grab his glass of wine, he settles against Fraser’s side with a sigh. 

“Alright?” Fraser asks.

“Yeah,” Ray replies.

For a few minutes, he just sits there and sips his wine, taking the time to actually taste it now. Then he draws in a deep breath, opens his mouth, and lets everything just come out. “So you know how Ma’s car got scratched up at the grocery store last week...”

It takes a while for every crappy thing to come out, but through it all, Fraser never stops paying attention. Ray knows, because whenever he gets so worked up that he has to sit up properly to gesture, Fraser’s already watching him, reaching out to take his glass away before he spills it. Eyes intent on Ray, he nods and answers the questions with “Yes, Ray,” or “No, Ray,” or “That’s terrible, Ray, I’m sorry,” the generic stuff that Ray needs to hear Fraser say to know he cares. 

Then he reaches out to draw Ray back in, handing him back his glass at the same time, and every time Ray seems to end up sprawled just a bit more over him. After a week of thinking he’s being ignored, it feels damn good.

By the time he’s done grumbling and cursing and bitching about everything and everyone that’s got on his nerves, his wine is gone, and he’s slumped bonelessly into Fraser. It feels like he’s sort of melded into him, the way he can hear Fraser’s sympathetic sounds rumbling beneath his ear, and is being lifted gently every time Fraser draws in a breath.

“Hey,” he protests feebly, when Fraser takes his empty glass away. “I was using that.”

“I’ll refill it in a moment,” Fraser promises, and then slips his hand into Ray’s now-empty one.

Huh, Ray thinks, as his fingers close reflexively around Fraser’s. Maybe he won’t complain too much.

After a moment, Fraser starts rubbing his thumb slowly across Ray’s knuckles. “You know,” he starts, quiet but sure, “I don’t think it’s weak to complain about the things which are on your mind, and it certainly doesn’t indicate a weakness of character to do so. It’s a valid and sensible way of dealing with unpleasant situations. In fact, studies which have been done which show there’s a great deal of benefit to be gained from releasing concerns in a non-judgemental, caring environment.”

Ray doesn’t think that Fraser’s making that up, but he’s not so sure that Fraser believes it either. “If that’s so true, why don’t you do it?”

Fraser’s thumb stutters, just for a moment. Then he answers. “I’ve never had anyone who would listen to me.”

His carefully level voice isn’t enough to fool Ray. Determinedly, he pushes himself up, making sure he keeps firm hold of Fraser’s hand. “Yeah, well, you do now.” A small, surprised smile dawns on Fraser’s face. “What, you thought I was just going to cry on your shoulder, and that’d be it?” 

Ray feels himself flushing slightly, because there’s more to that sentence than just an offer of a listening ear, if Fraser hears it.

“I was hoping not,” Fraser murmurs, and thank goodness, a flush crosses his cheeks as well. Slowly, he slips his arm from around Ray’s shoulder, and then cups a hand around the side of his face, a barely-there touch as he asks, “I know this might not be the best time, but… could I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Ray breathes, and leans forwards at the same time as Fraser tugs him gently in. Their lips meet softly, a close-mouthed, careful kiss that lingers for just a moment before Fraser draws back with a smile on his face. For the first time all week, Ray feels the expression echoed on his own face, and a small bubble of happiness rises up inside him. Not quite back to normal, not yet, but a damn sight closer than he was an hour ago.

“So,” he says, through a throat that feels just a bit too dry. “What now?”

After a moment of consideration, Fraser says half-hesitantly, “Well, there’s a rather vexing situation at the consulate which I’ve been dealing with this week…”

Solemnly, Ray replies, “I’ve been told there’s nothing like a good moan to get that sort of thing out of your system. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

They grin at each other, and then settle back into the couch, this time with Ray’s head in Fraser’s lap, while Fraser slouches into the cushions and rests one hand on Ray’s chest. Ray watches the other one gesture in the air above him, while Fraser’s annoyed voice fills his ears. Apart, they’re grumpy, he thinks; and together, well, they’re still a bit disgruntled, but a hug, a kiss, and a listening ear go a long way to sorting that.

**Author's Note:**

> There are no caribou in this fic, I apologise. I was just really stuck for a title.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Caribou Can't Solve Everything (podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068116) by [Seascribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe)




End file.
